Pan's Blood
by Azul Bloom
Summary: Hook's got the perfect means to Pan's end. [DrabbleOne-Shot...maybe Two-Shots] Warning: Not really for the faint of heart. Might skew close to R.


**Pan's Blood  
**_**Pt.1?**_

Author: Azul Bloom  
Pairing: Do I really need to spoil it?  
Rating: PG-13...maybe R  
Description/Excuse/Warning?: _Somewhat Chan? Deception, Het. Not extremely dark. Also, this was a drabble. A product of 3-5 am insomnia so it's not beta'd and quite possibly crap? A bit odd...It disgusted a loyal reader. Will most likely be revised later.  
He he he…I am so good at this publicity thing, aren't I?_

* * *

"You ready, boy?" 

Aleck held the sword, turning his wrist to gaze at the sharp edge glistening to the orange light of the flickering candles. It seemed, that today would be the day, and he was but 14, but in this world, that was age enough to be a murderer. The golden boy had demonstrated that fully well.

Hook stood at the doorway, still as young or old as years ago when Pan's downfall began. His raven locks neatly curled with his best hat with long crimson feathers perfectly angled on his head. The lines of his suit immaculate and his boots and buckle shinned beyond fault. The hook he chose for this occasion was made of solid gold and buffed to show it.

His back still to the captain, he placed the sword in his holster and straightened the cuffs of his shirt and coat. "Aye, my captain."

Hook walked towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder, a silent request for him to turn and face him. "You will not lose." Hook said without a thought of doubt. "Do not fear the boy. He should fear you."

Aleck scoffed. "I, fear Pan? Never. Loathe him, I do."

"Good." Hook smiled. "Feed upon that hatred. Let it give you strength, but do not let it take your wit. He is a crafty one and skilled every bit as well as you or I."

"He is also a bloody murderer. A sprite from hell."

Hook gazed into the boy's eyes, the malice he felt for Pan shining in the dark amongst the crystal azure. There was never a moment he didn't see the face of his mother in the eyes that the boy and her shared, except when they were full of fury, and Hook made sure to feed that fury with every breath of deceit his ingenious mind could muster.

"Come, my boy." Hook moved to his dresser and Aleck followed him obediently. He took a small bronze engraved wooden chest from the first drawer and turned to face the boy, holding it from below with his hooked arm. "I took it from around your mother's neck when I came upon her body. I thought, you'd need the strength on this day, and I've kept it locked away, simply waiting for you."

He lifted the lid and Aleck looked into the chest. The only contents being an acorn placed on a silver chain. "It was…my mother's?"

"Yes, boy" Hook said with forged sympathy. "You need to be reminded of the truth, or else Pan's lies will strike at your will. Use it to try and strum remorse for his malevolent deeds. Flash it before his eyes and watch his soul wither away."

Truth, Aleck thought. He was told Hook's truth since his mind could comprehend language and dark emotion. His loving mother, a lady whose beauty was surpassed only by her own sweet nature, struck down in the dead of night right in his nursery. The culprit was the boy who had traveled the far stretches from Neverland to London only to commit the vile act. 'Why?' he had asked once, and Hook replied that it was due to his mother's heart. Once, when she was the age of the eternal youth, they had been each other's love, a childish love. An immature infatuation. But she left Neverland and loved an adult love, giving birth to him at the tender age of 17. 'When you were but months old, he slew your father in his own bed, but your mother, he waited to see her run into your nursery to flee away with you, and plunged his sword into the heart he felt betrayed him.' As he was told, he was next for the boy's blood thirst, but Capt. Hook had followed him that night, and arrived in time to fight him off from above his crib, taking him to be his ward in light of his orphanhood.

"Remember your mother, dear boy. For I knew her well and remember her fondly. It is in her name that you will finally destroy the curse that has been on this land for years. It is in Wendy Darling's memory that Pan will meet his just deserved end."

He took the necklace from the chest and placed it around his neck, holding the acorn in his thumb and forefinger for a moment before tucking it under his blouse. "It is by my hand that he will perish. The hand that replaces the one he stole from you. The hand that you have nurtured and trained. This will be as much your victory as it will be mine, my captain."

Hook smiled kindly, but his inner smile was more sinister and more of acackle. No, it was not Aleck's victory at all. It would be entirely his.

"Thank you." He lightly stroked Aleck's golden hair, tied neatly from the back and reaching just a few inches below his neck, the most clear and vibrant sign of his paternity. "Know, that you are, like a son to me."

* * *

Peter waited by the water's edge, concealed by the thick green from the lookout's sights aboard the ship. A message via the Indian whom Hook had captured and released only to communicate with him had caught him completely off guard, and instantly memories of gentle touches and sweet smiles invaded his thoughts. Hook said that he'd obtained possession of something dear to him. Something born from an acorn and a thimble and were he to want it back, he'd duel till someone's death. 

There was but one acorn he ever remembered, but she was forever lost to him. The last time he saw her, she was a child no more. She said 16. He continued to visit her for their annual spring cleanings, but the growth of his body troubled him greatly so he froze himself when they were 13 by staying away from her and London. But his heart was a foolish beast and it lured him back to her window years later, when a something odd and frightening yet completely wonderful happened between the two, although he never did want to know what it was. He was sure, he shouldn't know. When he finally did return to her again, he found another lady and gentleman living in no. 14. It seems she had moved away and not once more did he ever see her. He never again found his Wendy.

For a fleeting moment, he entertained the notion that it was Wendy whom the Captain had brought to his ship, but if it had been her, he would have felt it. So no. It wasn't her. Perhaps it was best that it wasn't, for she always did remain an un-healing wound in his soul and if he saw anything that tainted his image of his Wendy, young and about his size, the mermaids only know how many happy thoughts would flee from his hold.

He looked to the horizon and saw the last graces of sun washing above the seas' waves, luring away the day and welcoming the evening. It was about the time Hook dared him to arrive and as much as he hated being prompt, he couldn't stand the anticipation any longer.

Tonight, he felt, was different than all the other battles and brawls, skirmishes and scuffles. Tonight, a definite was felt in the warmth of the winds and the island which grew quiet as the duel's time came close. Maybe he would've felt just the tiniest bit of fear or uncertainty when Hook's face came into view and the look of utter conviction reigned in the captain's eyes and grin. But he held reassurance from the words the mermaid spieled after yet another death defying escape from the hook near the lagoon many moons ago:

'_Pan's reign can only meet its fate by his own blood's doing. His blood and his blood only can bring about his end.' _

Peter smiled wickedly. How Hook could try even after both of them heard the foretelling was beyond him, but still, if Hook was rash and wished to meet his end, then so be it. He'd gladly be the one to do it.

He landed on the deck, dead center of the ring formed by the crew. No weapons on their persons or canons set up around them, just like Hook had said.

"Pan" Hook could hardly contain his wicked joy. "Ready to meet thy doom? For tonight, you feel cold steel right through your heart."

Peter laughed heartily, throwing his head back and his whole body into it. "Whatever you say captain." He unsheathed his sword and took his stance, but Hook simply snickered and called his ward to his side.

"No, Pan. It is not my hand that will wield a sword against you. For you see, I have but one and you have two." He turned to look at Aleck as the boy came to stand before him, his coat removed and thrown to the side and his own blade out and ready. "Aleck here, has agreed…nay…volunteered to be both my hands."

"Oh captain. I thought today was to be your day into twilight" He shook his head and placed his fists on his waist. "How have you disappointed me. I have no desire to fight anyone but you these days!"

"You will fight me, Pan!" Aleck screeched. "You will fight and you will die. Now raise your blade and ready yourself, for I am your downfall!"

Peter's smile slowly faded as he looked at Hook's ward. His breathing harsh and his fingers wrapped so tightly around the handle of his sword that his knuckles where bleak white. He was a fierce sight, but nothing about him stirred as much feeling of any sort as his eyes. So blue and lovely and Peter felt lost within them whenever he gazed into them, although they always looked at him with loathing and despisal, and nothing else. Why the boy hated him so, he didn't know, and usually didn't care, but it was his eyes that played upon something deeper than the mind. It was his eyes so tainted with fury that made a shiver run down his spine.

Hook's smile never faded and below his breath, for his own knowledge he whispered, "By your own blood, Pan. By your own blood."


End file.
